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Can't Be Saved [Open] « Thread Started on Jul 2, 2008, 7:44pm »
Elizabeth Montgomery: Portrait of a Ghost. She sat in Cafe D'luche, a wonderful haunt, forgive the pun. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, giving way to a smattering of stars above her, giving way to the moon. Nevertheless, Elizabeth had a pair of sunglasses protecting her eyes. Her pale hair cascaded over her shoulders, falling like water over rocks, down into her lap. Her pale skin and pale hair seemed to fit right it with the pale cream coat she had wrapped about herself. Her thin hands were wrapped around a steaming cup of tea, her eyes staring down into the amber liquid, sadness in a cup. Other than her eyes, her face lacked any and all emotion, lips slack, eyebrows raised ever-so-slightly.
A sigh finally fell from her lips the moment the sun finally died away. One hand reached up and pulled the sunglasses from her eyes, setting them roughly upon the table next to her glass. The three other patrons of the little cafe paid no mind to the quiet clatter, perhaps all staring into their own cups of sadness. A heavy negativity seemed to be hanging over this place, a mix of all four patrons and their discontent. It couldn't have been more sad if there was country music playing -- Except their was. The quiet buzz of a radio station pulled her attention to it, and she smiled weakly at the cliche. Well, it could have been a bar.
The third man, farthest on the bar, was an interesting fellow. He was dressed in classic businessman, a long coat and a fancy hat. His eyes were glassed over from too little sleep and too many affairs. His mind was numbed by the gentle whine of the country singer who was droning on about his mama. This business man, whose name was Brad apparently, had no thoughts on his mind other than how he was going to explain the lipstick on his shirt to his wife. Elizabeth wondered how, too, and smiled weakly once more. She wondered how her life would have turned out if she weren't what she was now... Immortal, was that what it was? She remembered hearing stories as a child about creatures who survived by feasting upon the life-blood of others, but thought them to be just that. She found out that she was wrong... And speaking of home... She hadn't returned since the night of her death. Or was it death? She still hadn't figured that part out.
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